


It's an HR Fiasco

by MostGeckcellent



Series: Bright Futures Time Travel Agency [4]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fluff, M/M, Office Shenanigans, Pre-Relationship, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28737030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostGeckcellent/pseuds/MostGeckcellent
Summary: Bright Futures Time Travel Agency is a longstanding establishment with a shining reputation. Its agents are skilled and efficient, and the missions it undertakes are dangerous, daring, and world-saving.This isn't about that.Bright Futures would be nothing without its hardworking office staff, after all. And they might not be jumping through time and saving the day, but they get up to adventures all their own.In this installment, join Courfeyrac as he tracks down a rogue briefcase, has coffee with a friend, and does some paperwork.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables)
Series: Bright Futures Time Travel Agency [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056437
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	It's an HR Fiasco

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KikiJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiJ/gifts).



> For KikiJ, who isn't even in this fandom, but likes this AU and wants more Courferre <3

When Courfeyrac took this job, he thought it would be exciting, glamorous. He’d hoped it would one day lead to a promotion to actual time agent, maybe. After all, he’s the one who goes in after them, cleans up their messes. Turns out it’s mostly paperwork, actually. Courfeyrac is good at it, though - and he does get to go into the field now and then. 

That’s how he finds himself wading through a dumpster in 1972 Chicago. “Gross.” He makes a face and holds up the thing he’s been looking for - a briefcase, abandoned by a time agent under what he has been assured are ‘extenuating circumstances’. He’s sure they were! He’s sure there’s a good reason! But it still means he’s wading through a 20th century dumpster in search of a briefcase full of nanotech. The briefcase has something stuck to it, and Courfeyrac isn’t sure he wants to know what it is. Every time he ends up in the late 20th century, he’s struck by just how much trash there is, just everywhere. And the pollution - the air is awful. 

“Right,” he mutters to himself. “Let’s get this back, then.” 

He dials up his watch, and steps into a phone booth. No one notices when he vanishes from sight, and the suitcase along with him. 

Getting the suitcase back is, of course, only the beginning. Courfeyrac showers, and goes through the usual time stream disinfectant process, and puts on some clean clothes, thank you very much, and pulls up all of the necessary paperwork on his tablet before taking the suitcase very gingerly back to IT. 

He goes straight to Combeferre’s office. Combeferre will probably just assign this downwards, and Courfeyrac knows it, but he still likes the excuse to pop in and say hello. Combeferre is on the phone when he arrives. 

“Mhm. Yes, I’ll look into -” Combeferre scribbles something down. “Right. Have we tried -” He says something that Courfeyrac has no hope in hell of following. It’s the sort of technobabble that he knows Combeferre tries to avoid with most people, but this is obviously a work meeting. “I see.” He frowns. “Well, for now, let’s have the team try to do peer quality control on the coding, and hopefully that’ll clear up the bottleneck for the review team. Keep me updated. Thanks.” He hangs up, and he must not have noticed Courfeyrac yet, because he yelps when he spots him, and jumps half a foot. “Courfeyrac.” He eyes the briefcase. 

“Hey, hot stuff.” Courfeyrac plops the briefcase on Combeferre’s desk. Combeferre eyes it dubiously. Courfeyrac barrels on, “I brought you a present,” he says in a sing-song.

“Why, you shouldn’t have,” Combeferre replies drily. 

“It’s Thierry’s abandoned suitcase of nanotech,” Courfeyrac explains. “Sorry about the trash, apparently he hid it in a trash chute, and it was just gone when he came back for it.”

“I guess trash chutes didn’t make it into the backgrounder,” Combeferre shakes his head. “It’ll need to be inventoried, make sure none of the contents got left behind.” 

“That’s why I’m here.” He waves his tablet. “I have paperwork to do about it, gotta be sure I got all the pieces.” 

“I’ll get someone on it,” Combeferre promises. 

Courfeyrac nods, logs the transfer, and puts his tablet away. He perches himself on the arm of Combeferre’s chair. “Take a coffee break with me.” 

Combeferre glances at his calendar. 

“Come on,” Courfeyrac pleads, “I know you’re very busy and very important but you know who else is very important? Me. Your bestest friend who you wouldn’t ever want to neglect.” He pouts, and makes his best puppy eyes. 

“Enjolras is my best friend,” Combeferre replies, deadpan. 

Courfeyrac puts a hand to his chest. “You wound me!” He flops dramatically, as if dying. “Ah!” His flopping nearly topples the chair, and it’s only Combeferre who saves him, as Courfeyrac pinwheels with his arms, eyes wide. 

“Be careful.” Combeferre is smiling, though - just a slight quirk of the lips, but it’s enough, and Courfeyrac is satisfied. 

“I’m in shock,” he says. “You have to take a break and have coffee with me.” 

“If you’re really in shock, I should take you to Joly,” Combeferre points out, but he gives in, and gets up from his desk, locking his desktop on the way. 

Courfeyrac does a very subtle fist pump, and follows him out the door. 

  
  


They probably should have done more to secure the briefcase, Courfeyrac will admit later. 

“When you bring me nanotech,” Combeferre is saying over all chaos, “You should really specify if it’s the kind that can bring down entire systems!”

“I don’t know shit about nanotech,” Courfeyrac defends himself. “Oof. Gotcha!” He lands hard on his stomach, but manages to capture another of the little flying robots the nanotech have constructed from the computers in the IT department, which are now wreaking havoc. “Hey, ow!” It shocks him, and he almost lets it go, but he manages to wrestle it into a rubbermaid container pilfered from the staff fridge. 

“This isn’t working,” Combeferre says grimly - they’ve caught half a dozen of them, or so, and there are more and more of them being created every second. 

“At least they’re not doing this in 1970s Chicago?” Courfeyrac says, trying for optimism. 

The look Combeferre gives Courfeyrac is withering. 

  
  


They’re all going to be getting so much overtime, and it’s late by the time they finish containing the nanotech again. Courfeyrac sits in Combeferre’s chair, puts his head on the desk, and groans out loud. Combeferre pats him on the head. 

“Today sucked,” Courfeyrac announces. 

“At least we managed to contain it before they could take down the time watches completely,” Combeferre says. 

“Mrghhh,” Courfeyrac groans again. 

“There, there.” Combeferre pats his head again, and Courfeyrac turns his head just enough to pout at Combeferre. “Let’s go home, hm?” Combeferre suggests. 

  
  


They go home together. Enjolras is still off in Paris, cleaning up some loose ends from his case before the holidays, so it’s just the two of them in the three-bedroom house they’ve been renting since they moved in together in their second year of college. Courfeyrac lays in his own bed for a while, tossing and turning. He’s exhausted, but he can’t sleep. He drags himself out of bed again, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and shuffles into Combeferre’s doorway. 

Combeferre is asleep already. Courfeyrac shuts the door carefully behind him, and tries not to wake Combeferre as he climbs into bed with him. This is something that they’ve done for what feels like ever, since they were just kids having sleepovers, so he knows Combeferre won’t mind, but he’s grumpy when he gets woken up. No one, not even Courfeyrac, really understands it, but it works for them. It always has. Courfeyrac hesitates, and presses the lightest of kisses to Combeferre’s cheek before curling up close to him and closing his eyes. He doesn’t know when the line got blurred between the kind of flirting he does with everyone, all the time, and something more genuine, but he’s not going to say anything. Combeferre is his best friend, and he refuses to risk it. They’re friends, best friends, and nothing is worth losing that. 

“Go to sleep,” Courfeyrac hears a sleepy grumble from Combeferre. “I can feel you thinking over there.” 

With that, Combeferre rolls over, throws an arm across Courfeyrac, and falls back asleep. Courfeyrac smiles and joins him. 


End file.
